To ruin an Omega

Chapter 178: In good faith

ALDRIC

The bathroom mirror showed me exactly what I’d been fighting against for years.

I leaned closer, tweezers in hand, and plucked a stray hair from my cheekbone. The sharp pinch was familiar. Comforting, even. I’d done this every morning for the past decade. Each hair a small battle won against time’s relentless march.

My reflection stared back. The salt and pepper at my temples had spread further than I liked. Distinguished, people called it. Handsome for your age. The compliments always had that little qualifier attached. For your age. As if youth was the only currency that mattered.

I hated it.

Not the gray itself. I’d kept it deliberately. Cultivated the look of wisdom and experience. But what I hated was what it represented. The slow decay. The body breaking down cell by cell. Every morning I saw new evidence that I was losing the war even as I won these small skirmishes with tweezers and expensive creams.

I reached for the cleanser. The cold gel spread across my skin in practiced circles. My fingers knew the routine by heart. Temples. Forehead. Down the bridge of my nose. Cheeks. Jaw. I worked it in until it foamed, then rinsed with water that was almost too hot.

The towel was soft against my face. Egyptian cotton. One of the few luxuries I allowed myself without guilt.

My phone buzzed on the counter.

I picked it up and saw Hazel’s name. The message was simple. Direct. Exactly what I’d expected from her.

This is Hazel Hughes.

A smile tugged at my lips. She’d taken the bait faster than I’d anticipated. Ambitious or cornered women were always the easiest to predict. They saw opportunity and they grabbed it with both hands. And the latter has no choice in the matter. Consequences be damned.

I typed quickly.

Be meek but confident in the morning when you face the council. As long as you hold my hand, you will stand tall.

I then hit send.

I set the phone down and reached for a hand towel. Dabbed at the water droplets still clinging to my hairline. The cotton absorbed them easily.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts.

I crossed the room in measured steps. Whoever it was had better have a good reason for showing up this early. My hand closed around the doorknob and I pulled it open.

Ronan stood there. His eyes met mine and I saw something urgent lurking behind them.

I grabbed his wrist and yanked him inside. The door clicked shut behind him.

“What are you doing here?” My voice came out sharper than intended.

“I didn’t think this was something that could be said on the phone.” His tone was apologetic but firm.

I shot him a look. “Really?”

He didn’t flinch. Neither did he back down. That was one of the things I liked about him. He had a spine even when it was inconvenient. That was very much me.

It was like looking at a mirror.

I shifted to give him more room to enter properly and closed the door with more care this time. Made sure the lock engaged. “What is it?”

“It’s about Cian.” Ronan’s hands flexed at his sides. A nervous habit he’d never quite broken. “He suspects Madeline.”

The words landed like stones in still water. Ripples spreading out in every direction.

I turned to face him fully. “Explain.”

“He thinks she killed Ophelia. He says he smelled her magic at the scene.” Ronan’s voice dropped lower. “He’s convinced she’s working with Gabriel. Technically that is you. Which he doesn’t know now but he might figure it out.”

My jaw tightened. Of all the complications I’d planned for, Cian’s powers of observation hadn’t ranked high enough. I’d underestimated him. Again.

“How obsessed was he with that witch?” The question came out bitter. “And why didn’t Madeline think this through when she was working?”

Ronan shook his head. “He came to me right after putting Fia to bed. He was wound tight. Paranoid. But also certain.”

“Certain enough to do what?” I crossed my arms. The cotton of my robe felt suddenly too thin. Too vulnerable.

“He asked me to watch her. To look for proof.” Ronan’s eyes tracked my face. Reading me the way he always did. “He doesn’t want it to be true. That’s why he came to me instead of confronting her directly.”

I processed that. Turned it over in my mind. Cian’s hesitation was the opening I needed. His sliver of doubt was my advantage.

“I think it’s time to abandon this ship.” Ronan’s voice was quiet. Almost gentle.

“Fuck no.”

The words came out harder than I meant. But I couldn’t help it. I’d worked too long. Planned too carefully. Made changes that I didn’t even want to make. I wasn’t about to throw this away because Cian had suddenly developed a sense of smell.

Madeline needed to exist to tear at whatever Fia had built with Cian because it would forever be shaky as long as she existed in between them.

Ronan reached for my hand. His fingers closed around mine and I felt the warmth of his skin. When I looked up, his eyes had gone soft. Concerned.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.”

The statement hung between us. Simple. Honest beyond ways. Dangerous.

I took a breath and let it out slowly. I forced my shoulders to relax. My jaw to unclench.

I squeezed his hand. “If Cian is confiding in you, it makes it clear that he doesn’t want it to be true. What he will want now is to watch Madeline closely. Using you, mostly.” I met his eyes. Held his gaze. “We have the advantage. As long as he believes he has a village in you, he will always see through rose colored glasses.”

Ronan studied my face for a long moment. I could see him weighing my words. Testing them for cracks.

“If you’re sure.” His voice carried doubt but also acceptance.

“I am.”

He nodded slowly. “I’ll go then.”

He turned toward the door but I moved faster. My hand caught his elbow and held him back.

“No. Wait.”

He looked at me over his shoulder. Questioning.

“I got you something.” The words felt strange on my tongue. It felt like I was trying to hard. I sounded too soft. Too revealing. “We haven’t had time alone so I guess it’s proper to give it to you now.”

“What?” His eyebrows lifted slightly.

I crossed to the dresser and pulled open the second drawer. The watch box sat exactly where I’d left it. Black leather with gold embossing. I picked it up and turned back to him.

“I bought a similar version and I was thinking of you when I got it.” I opened the box. The watch gleamed against the white satin interior. Silver and gold. Classic. Expensive without being ostentatious. “Want to try it?”

Ronan hesitated. His eyes moved from the watch to my face and back again. “I’m sure you have other business.”

“Yes. I do.” I stepped closer. Close enough to smell his cologne. It was woody and clean. Exactly the kind I would go for. “I have to reach out to the Strati family and undo years of resentment and estrangement in a few hours.”

I held the watch out to him. Let it dangle from my fingers.

“But I always have time for you, Ronan.” The words came out quieter than I intended. More honest. “Do not forget that.”

His hand moved slowly. Like he was approaching something that might bite.

He turned it over in his hands and examined it from different angles. The light caught the crystal face and threw tiny rainbows across his skin.

“It’s too much.” His voice was rough.

“It’s not nearly enough.” I reached out and took his wrist. Turned it palm up. “Let me.”

He didn’t pull away. He didn’t protest. Just stood there while I fastened the watch around his wrist. The leather band was supple under my fingers. I adjusted it carefully. Made sure it sat just right. Not too tight. Not too loose.

When I was done, I didn’t let go immediately. My thumb rested against his pulse point. I could feel his heartbeat. Steady. Strong. Faster than it should be.

“There.” I met his eyes. “Perfect.”

He swallowed. I watched his throat work. Watched the way his jaw tightened and relaxed.

“Thank you.” The words were barely audible.

I released his wrist and stepped back.

“Go.” I turned away. Moved toward the window. “Pretend to do what Cian asks. Watch Madeline. Report everything to me.”

“I will.”

I heard him move toward the door. Heard the lock disengage. The door opened and I felt the change in air pressure.

“Alpha Aldric.”

I looked over my shoulder.

Ronan stood in the doorway. The watch caught the light from the hallway. “I already told you. When we are together. You can call me—”

“I’m more comfortable calling you by your name.” Ronan cut in.

“Okay then. What did you want to say?”

“Be careful.”

“I never am. You should know that by now. I enjoy the thrill of danger and pushback. I’m sure you do too.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, that is the one thing we do not have in common. What a shame.”

Then he was gone.